


ace of cups

by toxicpop



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Slow Burn, i just want someone to take care of mox okay, this idea hasn't left me alone for almost two years so HERE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 05:45:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13968624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicpop/pseuds/toxicpop
Summary: this idea has been floating around in my fucken phone for almost 2 fucken years and i'm sick of it harassing me so here. i'm drunk and i don't care if it's stupid





	ace of cups

**Author's Note:**

> this idea has been floating around in my fucken phone for almost 2 fucken years and i'm sick of it harassing me so here. i'm drunk and i don't care if it's stupid

Mox woke to a pitiful meow outside his window, nearly drowned out by the pouring rain. He sat up, ignoring how his ribs twinged and the room spun a little, squinting in the blue pre-dawn gloom and wondering if he was imagining things before he heard a second, more pitiful meow. “Okay, okay, hold on,” he groaned. He stumbled to the window on unsteady legs, tripping over the empty whiskey bottle he’d dropped to the floor before he’d fallen asleep. In the dim of the room, he groped for the cord to the blinds and yanked them up to reveal a miserable looking tortoiseshell cat on the fire escape. It cried again and pawed at the glass as a roll of thunder shook the window in its frame.

Mox fought with the lock for a few seconds and shoved the window open. The cat leaped into the room, shaking the rain out of its coat with a jingle from its collar.

“Where d’ya belong, kitty?” he asked, closing the window and falling back into bed. The cat jumped into his lap and rubbed its face against his chest. Mox pulled his shirt over his head and attempted to dry the bedraggled creature, noticing that a fish-shaped name tag hung from its collar. He could make out the name “Evey” on the front, but it was too dark to read the text engraved on the back.

“Evey, huh?” The cat made a happy _mrrow!_ sound in reply. Mox scratched her behind the ears. “I’ll take ya home in th’ mornin’, kitty. ‘S too early, everyone is sleepin’.” He turned onto his stomach and tugged his thin blanket over his shoulders. Evey padded onto his back, gently kneading his shoulders before curling up and purring quietly.

 _This is kinda nice,_ Mox thought as he drifted off. _Should get a cat._

* * *

 

Something rough scrubbed at his cheek and Mox stirred with a grumble. He turned his head to the other side, but something stepped on his ear and meowed in protest.

 _Shit. Th' cat._ Mox rolled over on his back and Evey mewed. In the light of day he could see she had one blue eye and one green eye.

“Mornin’ kitty,” he said before looking at his clock. Fifteen til three. “Or afternoon. Guess we better get ya home, huh?” He turned her tag over. The address was the same building two floors down, lucky enough, and below the phone number was the name Rosie Flanagan. He dialed the number and waited as it rang.

“Hello?” a girl answered.

“Hey, lookin’ f’r Rosie,” Mox rasped. _Shit, I sound terrible._

She hesitated for a moment. “Speaking. Who’s calling, please?”

“Name’s Jon Moxley. Found ya cat. Black an’ orange, odd eyes, answers t’ Evey?”

“You found her?” Rosie cried. “She’s been gone for days! Where was she?”

“Same building, two floors up on th’ fire escape. Came in like she lived here about two thirty this mornin’ when I opened th’ window, real happy t’ get outta th’ rain. Would’a called sooner, but I jus’ woke up. If ya home I can bring her down.”

Rosie sighed. “I’m actually at work right now and can’t leave. Is there any way you could keep an eye on her until I get home after five, please? I hate to inconvenience you, she’s probably been on your nerves already.”

Mox looked down at the cat, who was stretched out and allowing him to scratch her belly. “Nah, she ain’t any trouble. Lemme know when ya get home.”

“Thank you so, so much, Jon. I’ll call you this evening. You don’t know how much I appreciate it. Bye!”

Evey meowed at him when he hung up, tapping his thigh with her paw. Mox looked at her, a little confused.

“What?” he said. “Ya hungry?” Evey gave him pitiful kitten eyes. “Guess so. C’mon, let’s see what we got.”

What he had turned out to be two bottles of beer in the fridge and a forlorn can of tuna hidden away in a cabinet. Mox looked at the cat and sighed.

“Ain’t much, but it’ll have t’ do.” He popped the tab and dumped the contents on a paper plate. Evey was raising hell, winding around his ankles and yowling.

“Yeah, yeah. Eat up,” he said, setting the plate on the floor. Evey was on it like a magnet almost before he let go. He snagged the beer out of the fridge and left the cat to her meal in the kitchen. The lumpy futon in the living room wasn’t much of a couch, but it was worlds more comfortable than the board and cinder blocks they’d been using until his roommate found the futon next to the dumpster. He stretched out and nursed his first beer.

 _Maybe if I’m lucky, kitty’s worth a reward. Enough for some fuckin’ ramen at least, better than nothin’._ His stomach growled and he sighed. Losing the match the other night had meant he’d only been able to afford his rent, and his roommate kept anything he bought locked in his room. It was a shitty situation, for sure. Mox knocked back the rest of his beer and started on the other one. _Maybe I can beg a couple bucks off Sami for a bottle of Jack. Forget about bein’ hungry anyway._ He turned on the TV and flipped through their handful of stolen basic cable channels before settling on a documentary about the Mississippi River on PBS. It was enough to keep his attention and he sipped through his second beer as the afternoon trudged on. He slowly found himself sliding closer and closer to completely horizontal. Evey, having finished her meal, cozied up on his chest and breathed her tuna breath in his face. Mox dozed off to the sound of the narrator’s slow, even voice and a warm, purring weight above his heart.

* * *

His phone buzzing in his pocket jolted him awake again and Mox nearly jumped out of his skin. Evey leapt off his chest with a hiss, clearly startled. He fished the phone out of his pocket and saw he had four missed calls. _Shit, bet that’s Rosie._ Before he could call back, the phone rang again in his hand.

“Mox,” he answered.

“Hi! It’s Rosie, sorry to call so many times. I’m home if you want to bring Evey down.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Mox rubbed at his eyes. “Three-twelve, right?”

“That’s me! See you in a bit!” She hung up. Mox dropped his phone in his lap and scrubbed at his face with his hands to shake off the last tendrils of sleep. "Ready to go home, kitty?" Evey butted her head against his calf. "Takin' that as a yes."

Mox at least made an attempt to look somewhat presentable, tugging on some mostly hole-free jeans and combing his fingers through his hair. He checked his pockets for his keys and phone before picking Evey up and walking out. The door to the stairwell slammed shut and the cat squirmed in his arms. "Chill, kitty, ya mom ain't gonna be happy if I show up without ya," he chided. He wound his fingers through her collar as a precaution all the same. Almost before he was ready, he found himself on the third floor in front of Rosie's apartment. Evey yowled loudly in annoyance before Mox could knock.

The door swung open and a tiny, heavily freckled woman with a mass of curly red hair stepped out.  _God, is that her? She's beautiful._  Mox had never been one to believe in love in first sight, but the way she looked up at him with those mesmerizing green eyes felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Her eyes widened and she cried, "Evey, you naughty thing, I was worried sick!" The cat leapt out of Mox's arms to wind around her ankles, purring obnoxiously before slinking inside. The woman turned to Mox and beamed. "And you must be Jon! Come in, come in! I'm Rosie, thank you so much for finding my baby."

"Aw, it was nothin'," he said a little self consciously as Rosie all but dragged him into the apartment.  _Fuck, look at that ass._ "Felt bad she was out in th' rain. How ya s'posed to say no t' those eyes?" 

"Ugh, don't let her hear you say that. She gets away with absolute murder as it is." Her sarcastic grin made his heart skip a beat. "Anyway, would you like to stay for dinner?” Rosie asked, sounding hopeful. “I’m making spaghetti, and everyone knows it’s impossible to make a reasonable amount of spaghetti.” Mox opened his mouth to decline when his stomach growled loudly. As much as it pained him to turn down a free meal, he didn’t want pity from anyone. Much less from this tiny ginger ray of sunshine that smelled like magnolias.

“Don't wanna intrude,” he mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed. Rosie put her hands on her hips.

“Really, Mox. It’s the least I can do to repay you for finding Evey, and you sound hungry. You’re staying for dinner and that’s that.” She stuck out her tongue at him and went into the kitchen. After a moment’s hesitation he followed like a stray puppy, watching her stir a steaming pan of sauce while a pot of water thought about boiling on another burner.

“Do ya want some help?” he offered. God, it smelled wonderful. His stomach growled again.

“Sure. You can taste and tell me if it’s good.” She brought him a spoonful of sauce. “Careful, it's hot. What do you think?” He took it from her and tried it.

“Christ, that’s amazing.” He was used to thin, canned-tasting pasta sauce, but hers was thick and full of meat and onions and other delicious things. “Jesus. I could eat that by itself.” Rosie’s sweet green eyes sparkled. He quickly turned around and put the spoon in the sink to keep her from noticing the flush creeping up his neck.

“Good! I just need to put the bread in the oven and cook the noodles. Ten minutes, tops. Go wash up, okay? Bathroom is the first door on the right. I’ll holler when it’s ready.” She popped an uncooked spaghetti noodle in the corner of his mouth and shooed him out of the kitchen.

“Th’ hell do I do with thith?” he asked, pointing.

“You eat it, of course. It’s good luck.”

“Without cookin’?”

“It’s crunchy, Mox. Ain’t gonna kill you.” Rosie gave him a friendly bump with her hip and returned to her cooking. He gave the noodle an exploratory nibble and made a face. It was dry and nearly tasteless. In the bathroom he broke the dry noodle into smaller pieces and flushed it down the toilet to hide the evidence. As he washed his hands, he looked in the mirror and noticed a pop of color on the towel rack behind him.  _Is that...?_ A lacy, sea blue thong hung over the bar, obviously drying after a hand wash. Before he could stop himself he snatched it off the rack and crammed it deep into his pocket.  _What am I doing what am I doing I'm gonna get caught she's gonna know-_ A sick thrill washed over him.  _Just play it cool and it'll be fine._ He left the bathroom and took a seat on the couch, Evey jumping up beside him. He absently petted her for a few minutes.

"Dinner's ready!" Rosie announced, peeking around the corner. She disappeared again and Mox heard her clanking around in a cabinet. “Come on if you’re coming!” she called. He trotted to the kitchen where Rosie handed him a chipped plate with a faded floral pattern and a fork. “You’re the guest, help yourself first!”

“Uh, thanks.” Mox felt awkward serving himself. Was it too much? What was a normal serving, anyway?

“Come on now, get more than that. You’re a growing boy, that’s not enough!” Rosie laughed as she piled spaghetti onto her own plate. She bumped him gently with her hip. “Really, get as much as you want. There’s plenty.”

After filling their plates, they sat down at the wobbly kitchen table. Rosie set a basket of garlic bread between them. In the corner, Evey tucked into a saucer of canned cat food with gusto.

“Do ya always cook this fancy?” Mox asked. He shoveled pasta into his mouth. It was honestly the best meal he’d had in months.

“I wouldn’t call this fancy. Just like to cook.” She quirked an eyebrow at his posture, hunched over his plate with his elbows on the table like someone was going to take his dinner away from him. “Slow down, man, you’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, ducking his head. “Haven’t… haven’t eaten in a couple days.” Her eyes went wide and she nearly choked.

“A couple _days_?” she spluttered. She gestured at him with the handle of her fork. “By God you’re having seconds, and don’t argue.”

Rosie ended up making him eat almost two full plates and three pieces of garlic bread before she was satisfied that he was well fed. Mox felt his eyelids growing heavy, his belly full for the first time in three weeks. He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s gettin' pretty late, I should get outta ya hair.”

"Can I at least send some leftovers with you?" Rosie practically radiated concern, something Mox wasn't used to. 

"Nah, 'm fine. Get paid tomorrow," he lied. He let her walk him to the door, giving Evey a farewell pat on the way. Rosie stood in the doorway while Mox fidgeted. 

"Thanks for dinner, it was really good." He shifted from side to side uncomfortably. Her stolen underwear felt like lead in his pocket.

"Thanks again for bringing her home," Rosie said, voice a little softer this time. She stepped forward and drew him into a hug.  _Fuck, she smells so good._ He suddenly wanted to kiss her, wanted to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. 

"Anytime, Rosie. See ya 'round." He gave her a weird little salute of a wave and stalked down the hall toward the stairs before he did something really stupid.

* * *

Later in his own room, he fell into his bed with a sigh. Rosie had thrown him for a bit of a loop in the best way. She was beautiful and kind and nothing like him at all, but she treated him like some sort of equal? The whole night there hadn't been a single look of disgust or pity on her face. He wasn't really sure what to think of it, other than how much he really,  _really_ wanted to kiss her.

Mox’s fingers brushed the stolen thong in his pocket and he fished it out. The thought of her perfect ass wrapped in that soft blue lace like a present tore a low groan from him. He unzipped his jeans and shoved his shirt halfway up his chest before giving himself a few rough strokes. Would she let him tear them off her? In his mind he pictured her beneath him, her panties shredded in his fist, her pupils blown and a sweet pink flush staining her cheeks. His head fell back against the mattress and he whined loudly.

“Knock it off!” came his roommate’s voice, snarling as he pounded on the wall connecting their rooms. Mox rolled his eyes and crammed the hem of his shirt between his teeth to keep quiet, trying to focus on his fantasy. What would her lips feel like on his? Did the freckles on her face and arms cover her entire body? He’d never seen a girl with freckled tits before, but he couldn’t imagine they’d be anything less than perfect on her. The sweet scent of her perfume lingered on his skin from her parting hug and he was half drunk on it, cock aching in his grip and dizzy with visions of Rosie’s kiss-bruised lips and her hands fisted in the sheets. He bit down hard on his shirt to stifle the sounds that desperately wanted to tear free. Was she vocal? Would she let him hear just how much she liked it? God, he hoped so. He could almost hear her soft voice begging him for more, could almost see her on her hands and knees with his cock buried in her. The next thing he knew he had her thong pressed to his face, the delicate material smooth against his cheek and her intoxicating scent stronger than ever. His eyes drifted halfway shut and he tried to imagine his fist was her slick heat drawing him closer and closer to his release. What would she sound like coming undone around him? Would she just cry out, or would she say his name?

“Oh, fuck, Rosie-“ he hissed through his teeth. His entire body tensed and his jaw locked shut to hold back his moan as he came so hard his back arched off the bed.

_Fuck. I've got it bad._


End file.
